It's only the beginning of trouble

As I sit on the uncomfortable train seat, blankly staring out of the window, I feel the heat wash over me in an instant. Breath one. Breath two. Breath three. It’s okay, I can do this. Trying to stay calm and relaxed, I look away from the window, starting to feel dizzy from the speed we pass the trees with. You’ve done this before, I say to myself as a pep talk. Just because it’s different setting, doesn’t mean you can’t do it.

There is only one problem - if it goes south, I won’t be able to escape for another 3 hours of that train ride. I have to execute the plan perfectly to the last step to make sure I will get away with it.

In moments like this I swear at myself for choosing to do that specific line of work. I’m still a beginner, I am still nervous and anxious about the jobs, even though my mentor tries to convince me it will get easier and more natural. I let out a huff and smile at that thought. What a messed up world it is, to get used to doing something so awful. I personally don’t have a choice, I need to do this and clear the society from disgusting and horrible people.

My eyes travel down to my backpack, trembling slightly from the train movements, filled with the tools I will need for this specific job. The top zip is open and the sun faintly glints in body of the syringe I brought, the tool for Plan A. If all goes well, I won’t have to travel too far down the alphabet to finish the job, but I prepared myself for many possibilities and outcomes.

I push my head back onto the headrest and close my eyes, breathing in the dusty smell of the carriage. A quiet conversation of the couple two rows ahead of me reaches my ears, and I focus on their words, to calm my nerves. It’s hard to tell what the topic of their exchange is, all I can make out from it are words like ‘secret’, ‘promise’, ‘disaster’ and ‘truth’. The nosy part of me wants to move closer and listen in, but the rational part of me rejects the idea, bringing my focus back to my assignment. I should not distract myself with anything until the job is done and I can get off the train.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I take it out, to see my mentor’s name on the screen.

“Yes?” I answer quietly, looking around for any other passengers that could be in the earshot.

“What’s the update?” His low and raspy voice sounds in my ear and a shiver travels down my spine.

“I will approach the target in 8 minutes.” I reply and saying it out loud must activate some more anxiety in me, because my leg starts bouncing and fingers start fidgeting with the seam of my jeans.

“Keep me in the loop,” he says and hangs up.

I take one last deep breath and stand up, grabbing my backpack and closing the zip. Here we go.

Slowly I make my way towards the front carriage, the first class one I don’t have a ticket for. You have to be confident when walking past, but not too confident it brings attention. Easy. I enter the carriage and quickly scan the faces I can see for my target. I notice him at the table the furthest away from me, so deeply interested in whatever he is typing on the laptop, that I can sense it will be easy to execute my plan A.

He has got grey hair with some black streaks still running through. The suit he is wearing looks expensive, perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders but slim figure. He has got a clean shave, but the eyebrows he is furrowing are thick and badly unshaped. Luckily, he looks exactly like the picture I was given.

The fact that he has a laptop on the table and a drink next to it is a slight inconvenience. I wouldn’t want to damage his laptop in the first part of the process, as he may not be as forgiving for me to move to the second stage of the plan. My movements have to be even more careful now, I cannot afford to make a mistake here.

I shuffle my backpack and tilt it to the right side, which is where the tables are. As I slowly make my way towards the end of the carriage, I intensely calculate the angle I have to use to not cause too much trouble.

My target’s laptop is by the window side of the table, as is he, still furiously typing on the keyboard. His wine glass is placed to his right, almost at the edge of the table, which means my best move is to knock it away from him and his laptop. I swallow hard, take another deep breath and head to the door that lead to the next carriage. As I am about to open it, I turn to my right and push his glass off the table.

“Oh my goodness, I am so incredibly sorry, sir!” I say nervously, trying to keep my voice slightly higher pitched than my natural one, and I take some tissues out of the side pocket of my backpack.

He swears and closes his laptop. “How the hell can you be so clumsy?” He’s angry, I can hear it in his voice. It must have been a nice glass of wine.

But then he looks at me, the low cleavage of my blouse, the long and wavy brown hair barely covering anything, and he smiles. The frustration from his face is gone.

“Sir, please I will buy you a new drink, I promise.” I mumble still pretending to be stressed over this situation.

“Ah darling, please don’t worry. It’s just a liquid.”

When I’m done wiping off the seat opposite him, I throw the tissues in the bin and head for the bar, leaving my backpack innocently on the seat by the window. As I walk away I make sure to swing my hips with the movement, to attract more of his attention.

With the wine replacement in my hand, I walk back to the table and smile innocently at my target. He smiles back at me, probably thinking he got lucky I came across him. I know what he does when no one is looking, to what atrocities he lowers himself when he is not pretending to be a highly respected business man, and I also know that my silly outfit and clumsiness made him incredibly happy.

Wipe this smile off your face, you monster, you have no idea what’s coming.

I sit on the bench I just wiped off and push my backpack under the table, right by my legs.

“My name is Cassie.” I say and gently bat my eyelashes at him. “I hope I didn’t spill any wine on your gorgeous suit or very expensive looking laptop.” I chuckle nervously, waiting for his reaction.

“Well, Cassie, I think you just got lucky. Nothing seems to be damaged.”

I look at the table behind the laptop.

“Actually, there may be a little left here. Please, let me…“ I lean to my backpack under the pretense to get the tissues, and with them I take out the syringe and place it on my lap. After wiping the invisible stain off the table, I smile at my target again. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

“Of course…” before he says anything else, I stab his thigh with my unassuming weapon and his eyes open wide. “What… did you just do?”

“Shh.” I say in my normal voice and watch him slowly drift away. “Have a nap, sir.”